Crack in the Line
by KaiPhoenix
Summary: What can be said about a simple or not so simple crack in the line between one reality and another?....'Don't worry, Sirius, we'll find the right stop.'
1. Prologue: Theory

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author o this site (although I can't remember their name or the name of their story or I would give them the credit). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…_**reading…"**_

**Prologue: Theory**

For some, life is just a simple journey from birth to death to whatever happens after that point. Some have more exciting lives than others. Some have relatively 'normal' lives, although the definition for normal varies within tandem to what happens to be the fad of any particular year. Still others live relatively boring lives. Whichever type of life a person tends to lead, each react to said journey in a different manner. Some are content with what they have while others are dissatisfied greatly while still others don't particularly care one way or the other. Whether or not people like the way their lives go it is always up to them to decide how they will respond to whatever comes their way. The responses will always be varied, even if the circumstances are the same. What one person may decide as a course of action another might not even consider much less do. Each event in our lives shapes who we are as we allow it to do so.

It is these choices, it is often said, that define who we are and how others view us. What would happen if we had chosen a different way to act after the fact? What would happen if we waited a moment longer before deciding on something? What would happen if you didn't decide to forgive and, instead, hated a person for the rest of your natural life? What if you did forgive? What if someone else changed how they treated you? Contrary to popular belief, it isn't just our own actions that determine who we are, but also the choices of those around you, and even those that you haven't even met yet. How do these things affect our lives?

There are so many different possibilities to life. It is often said that said possibilities are endless, that a different universe exists for each decision made, or at least for the more difficult ones. That there is a vague yet powerful line between each reality.

What if there was a crack in that boundary? What if there were those that could traverse that split in reality? Would the balance be thrown? Would the cracks spread until everything was threatened? Would all life, existence, cease to exist?

Or would a simple crack in the line be beneficial in helping others be more aware of how they act?

What can be said about a simple or not so simple crack in the line between one reality and another? What is so different between one place and another? Some things can go one way or another, a fifty-fifty chance of happening one way or another.

…………………………………………………

There was a flare of light as a portion of the room erupted in flame. The flame spat out a 16-yearl-old looking young man. His grey robes were a little worn looking, but one could see that it was a result from wearing them through stressful moments and not from age. If anything the robes were of a high quality used by most aurors would wear. He had on muggle clothing underneath the partially closed robes that spoke in the same theme. His hair was black with a sprinkling of gray at the temples and clear blue eyes that spoke with more wisdom than shone on his youthful face. It was as if he was older than the 16 years that his body spoke him to be, old enough to have lived through a war yet young enough to have only seen the tale end instead of being born in the middle of it.

He had a wakizashi strapped to his waist inside his robes on his right and a wand holster on the left. His hair was cut short so as not to get in the way but framed his piercing blue eyes that scanned the room he was in carefully, looking for any danger before relaxing his guarded posture enough to put his companions at ease.

The first one that he made eye contact with was a magnificent bird that lit on his shoulder, folding her graceful wings back as she found her balance. She was about the size of a large falcon and her feathers were a silver black that few had ever seen before with red highlights streaked here and there. Her eyes were a dark emerald that was almost as piercing as the blue ones in the face of her carrier. Her gaze flitted from the one on whose shoulder she perched to their last companion and back again before nuzzling the seemingly younger man's ear affectionately.

The taller of the two humans glanced about the room as his companion's did, but relaxed as he saw the smaller man lose the guardedness that had been within his posture for months. His blue eyes were of a different shade than his partner. They held a kind of hauntedness that few had ever seen in a living person. His shoulder length black hair was sprinkled with silver a touch thicker than his short-haired companion, but pulled back at the nape of his neck. His clothing was much the same, save for the fact that his colors ran more for deep reds than the blacks and grays of the shorter male. On his left hip was a curved dagger while a broadsword was strapped across his back and his wand was in a holster on his right hip.

The older looking man made eye contact with the shorter one and shook his head slowly. The shorter smiled sadly before scratching the bird under her beak as she closed her eyes in bliss.

"Don't worry, Sirius, we'll find the right stop."

**A/N:** Yes, I am fully aware that I already have stories out that I haven't finished or even updated in awhile, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head!...I swear the update for Accident is almost done...Emotionless on the other hand...


	2. chapter 1: John Lupin

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author of this site, MaxFic (Harry Potter and the Otherside). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…_**reading…"**_

**Chapter 1: John Lupin**

He dodged the downward strike and swung his own weapon to meet his opponent's arm, severing the limb. Blood spurted across his face and clothing, but he merely wiped the liquid away from his eyes so as not to impede his vision. He whirled about and plunged the dagger in his other hand deep into the chest of his next attacker; being sure to slide the slim blade through the man's ribs and yanking it back out as the man fell backward so as not to lose the weapon.

He continued this dance with death for what seemed like hours before it came to an abrupt end. He had no idea how long the battle had really gone, nor did he really care. It was over and done with for the moment and that was all he really cared about. He glanced about to assess just how many had fallen this time. It seemed that, while he wasn't the only survivor of this skirmish, he wasn't one of many. He foraged about, gleaning what he could from the fallen of both sides for anything that could be salvaged and used again.

With how bad things had gotten in the past years, the barter system was a lot more effective than cold hard cash, muggle or wizard. There was no longer any distinction between the two worlds. It was hard to remember a time when the two had even been separate at all. He gathered what weapons and clothing that were still usable as well as any other trinkets or items that the bodies around him had. He didn't try to fight over anything with any of the other scavengers of war. It was a waste of energy for himself and them, and he needed to get away from what was left of the meadow as it was before anyone came looking for what had happened to the patrols that he had stumbled across with a few others.

He wasn't traveling with anyone so much anymore. Not since he had lost his mother. He was angry, sometimes, that she had died, that she had given up, but those feelings didn't ever last long. How could he blame her for wanting to escape what had become of their world? For wanting to return to his father and her sister and parents? He himself would have given up if he hadn't felt a pull to keep going. To keep looking for something that was missing…

He sighed as he huddled in his cloak by the fire in the small clearing he had found. It seemed as if the technologies that the muggles had developed had never happened as far as he was concerned. It was like living in the time before the Renaissance only with a few more amenities of life. People were scared and it seemed as if no place was truly safe anymore. The different gadgets still worked, but electricity and telephone lines weren't as connected as they were before…well before whatever had created this anarchy that they lived in today.

He thought it had something to do with the last major dark wizard or 'Dark Lord' as they took to calling themselves…pompous idiots.

He sighed, and dragged his thoughts away from such depressing avenues and gazed resolutely into the sky, marking the stars and which direction was north so he wouldn't be lost in the morning. He had forgotten to do such a thing the night before and it had led him to ending up in the middle of the earlier fight on accident. He didn't want to get side tracked again; he was going to be late enough as it was.

……………………………………………………….

The rest of his journey was, surprisingly, uneventful. He didn't run into any more patrols of surrounding villages or strongholds, nor did he run into those of more questionable natures. He hunted when he needed to eat meat and foraged anything else. As always with everything he did he was careful to leave no trace of the fact that he had ever been there.

He arrived at what appeared to be a burnt out old building. A castle made of cold, unforgiving stone that had stood overlooking the pristine lake and dark, foreboding forest. There were scorch marks along the walls, inside and out, as well as crumbling stone and broken glass littering the courtyard. The stone parapets along a few of the castle's balconies were broken while others remained as whole though time worn. The courtyard itself was overgrown and it seemed as if the forest was trying to swallow the castle grounds back into it as it had held them so long ago.

He was as silent as the wind as he swept through the dilapidated halls of the once grand building. His mother had told him that it had been a school at one point and that his father and aunt had gone there to learn wondrous things. His mother did not have the same gift that her sister had, so she had gone to a different school than her elder sister. She had met her husband through her sister and had never begrudged them their shared ability. It might have in the beginning if his aunt had not taken the time to discuss things with her.

She had still suffered from pangs of jealousy throughout her life, but she fought it off each time it surfaced. She loved her sister and her sister loved her. They had tried hard not to let this new development come between them. This liquid fire that flowed through his Aunt Lily's veins as surely as the life-giving blood.

Magic.

He paused as a heard a thump and a muffled curse. He sunk into the shadows beside the door to the room the noise had come from. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound and smell of those who were present and frowned to himself.

No one was supposed to be here.

………………………………………………………

Sirius cursed as he was spat out of the fire to land in an almost crumpled heap on the floor. His companion, of course, landed with much more finesse and grinned at him from where he stood.

"Sirius, you shouldn't use language like that," he mock-scolded, "We are, after all, in a school. What would we do if one of the students heard you? Though," he paused here and glanced around the room, taking in its dilapidated appearance, "I wonder if there is anyone here right now."

Sirius stood and copied the shorter man's movements and frowned at what he saw.

The room that they had landed in looked as old as the castle initially was. There was dust and rubble every which way he looked and broken glass scattered through the bits of rock that were in a radius around a destroyed window. There was no sign that anyone lived there currently or had lived there for a very long time, decades even.

It looked nothing like any of the Hogwarts locations that they had traveled to already, that was for sure.

He sighed; it looked like something bad had happened here. Something that hadn't happened in the other worlds he and his companions had visited. Or something that had been more controlled in the other worlds hadn't been here. Whatever had happened, he was positive that this wasn't the place they were looking for, either of them. He glanced at his companion again and shook his head.

"This isn't the right place either…although it feels like we're getting closer…" He paused as he heard a sharp intake of breath just outside the door to his left.

He whirled and drew his sword in one smooth motion, palming his wand with his free hand. He hadn't expected anyone to be there; the Professor would have warned him otherwise. Unless they had managed to cloak their presence completely, something that hadn't happened in any of the places they had visited as of yet.

He almost dropped his sword at what he saw.

Standing in front of him was a young man with amber colored eyes and sandy brown hair.

……………………………………

He couldn't hold back the sudden gasp that escaped his lips when he recognized the tall, black-haired man standing next to the young man. He spared no thought for the silver speckled youth or his peculiar familiar. All his attention was upon the man that had caused so much in his life to go wrong. So much death and destruction to the world that he lived in.

Sirius Black.

His sword was in his hand without him knowing just how it got there as he leapt at the man that he hated above all else. A feral sound, somewhere between a snarl and a growl, ripped from his throat as he swung his weapon, only to be parried by a broadsword that he had overlooked in his initial once-over of the man that was even now dancing back from his furious strikes.

"You- you foul-!" He couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth, his tongue catching each time he started a sentence. Finally, he snarled and gave up trying to speak until his mind was thinking clearly enough for it to form words more fully.

Clouded though his mind was, it did not deter him in his swordfight with the other man. He slashed and stabbed, clearly on the offensive, leaving only the defensive for the dark haired man. He heard the sizzle of magic as it was aimed at him, but deftly dodged any of the lights so as to not go down, though he was tiring. He swipes in the beginning were furious and power filled, but using that method the entire time was taxing on his reserves.

He was not normally this belligerent towards others, not since his mother had died. He hadn't been able to scrounge up the ability to care. In order to put that amount of strength behind his weapon, he had to care deeply about who he was fighting. He had to have a strong emotion backing his sword, because, although he was quite an accomplished weapons master, he was naturally a gentle being. Something his mother told him he had inherited from his father.

Not that he remembered his father very well, having watched him die at a very young age.

Which brought him back to the reason why he was trying his hardest to kill the man before him.

**A/N:** ...wow...that took longer to get up than I thought it would...course, my computer died on me and I had to wait for a friend of mine to send me back the first chapter which I had asked her to read before I could post it...ah well, it got up here eventually


	3. chapter 2: Duck, Sirius!

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author of this site, MaxFic (Harry Potter and the Otherside). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…**_reading…"_**

**Chapter 2: Duck, Sirius!**

He stared at the fighting pair with wide blue eyes as he continued to calmly pet the falcon-sized bird on his left shoulder. Oh he knew that he should probably help his traveling companion out, but he didn't think that it would be needed quite so much. If there was any danger, then Tenshi would let him know, and she appeared to be more amused by the situation than anything else.

Of course, most situations amused her; phoenixes had a very strange sense of humor. Not that he was much better, but when you lived like they did, you found humor in as many situations as possible. Otherwise, you'd spend your whole life grieving.

His mind refocused on the fight in time to see that both men were at a stand-off. Sirius had lost his wand; his wand hand looked a little bruised, while his sword lay several feet away. Equidistant to his broadsword laid the young man's own weapon. Both were breathing deeply, staring across the room from each other. Sirius flicked his left wrist and another wand slipped free from its binding and into his fingers as his opponent drew a wicked looking dagger from a hidden sheath.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The amber-eyed man's dagger flew from his hand, but he was able to angle it so that it would have sunk hilt deep into Sirius had the animagus not turned slightly at the last second. The blade still sliced into his clothing, but was held tightly in the scales of his dragon-hide over-shirt. It hadn't been able to reach his skin through the protective garment, but Sirius could still feel the bruise forming on his right side from the impact. The young man hit the wall and slid to the ground as Sirius' companion bound him with conjured ropes not a second after he had been disarmed.

Amber eyes flashed with hatred as they watched the taller man remove the dagger from his clothing, wincing as he did so. The tan face twisted into a snarl, teeth bared, as the travelers turned to face him.

"So, what was with that?" Sirius grouched to his shorter companion, glancing over at the teen who continued to scratch his familiar's crest with expert fingers.

His companion shrugged and continued to look at the young man bound before them while stroking the silver-ish bird on his shoulder. He didn't speak as his aura flared for a moment, reading the auras around him. He frowned momentarily before snickering for a moment, glancing at Sirius. Sirius frowned at him.

"Tom! This isn't funny! This is the third time my life has been in danger right after we got to a new place and you're always laughing at me!"

The newly identified Tom laughed even harder, "What do you mean third time? Unless you're counting that one time when Sev-"

"My life WAS in danger then!"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Yes, yes, let's all laugh about that, but what is so funny about this particular time?" Sirius didn't even try to disguise his annoyance with the younger-looking wizard, "And why does he look so much like Moony?"

The young man watched the banter go back and forth for a few moments before he growled at the use of _that_ name coming from _this _particular man.

"Don't you dare say his name you worthless piece of-"

"Now, now," Tom made a calming gesture and sent a weak calming spell towards the other youth, though it didn't seem to make much of a difference. The sandy-haired youth stopped his swearing, but his growling only lessened in volume, it didn't stop completely, not by a long shot. "We mean no harm or disrespect towards you and yours-"

"If you didn't mean any disrespect, then you wouldn't allow THAT THING to so much as _think_ his given name, let alone say his pack name!" The bound teen had begun quietly, but angrily, and ended his statement practically yelling.

Tom and Sirius blinked quietly, momentarily stunned speechless by the sheer hatred contained in that single sentence. Sirius winced internally; he didn't think that he had ever felt so much hate directly solely at himself before. The closest he'd ever come to having that amount of negative emotion directed at him was when he'd first met his godson after 12 years of separation.

Tom titled his head to the side, eyes narrowed as he felt his familiar hop off of his shoulder and watched as she glided down to the bound youth's eye-level. He watched, curious, as she held the amber gaze with her own dark emeralds as if reading into his very soul. Which was possible, considering the type of phoenix she was.

His companion of 10 years was the only one of her kind, as far as Tom knew. She wasn't a normal phoenix; in as far as phoenixes themselves were ever normal, that is. She was smaller than one, having already reached her full size at the young age of 8 years old, two years after he had taken her in.

She had been human at one point in time, but had been in an accident and another phoenix, one close to her family, had saved her life by transforming her into something much like himself. Not many humans became phoenixes; in fact, she was the only one he had ever met. One might call her an animagus, much like his other traveling companion, who was able to transform himself into a mammal and back again, but she wasn't. Not really.

There was a reason there weren't any witches or wizards who had magical creatures as their animagus form. Once you became that creature, you could never turn back. It also required the willing aid of another of said creature to become one as there was no other way to fully understand what it was that you were becoming.

Yes, his friend had once been a human, a darling little girl. But she no longer was, and would never be again. She'd spent more than half her life as a bird, a magical one yes, but a bird nonetheless. She was more phoenix now then human, though her dual nature (at least, as dual as it was) was part of the reason she was such a rare type of phoenix.

One able to travel much farther by fire than most other phoenixes; though her abilities in other areas than natural born phoenixes had little trouble with still gave her grief now and then. She wasn't a full phoenix, but she wasn't a human anymore either. It still confused him sometimes when she did something that was essentially human when the awareness that was purely human had all but completely faded from her mind. In as far as he could tell from their familiar bond anyway.

Like now.

Tenshi was wavering in the air in front of the bound youth, her wings dipped back and forth as she fluttered just within arms reach. Not that such a thing mattered when the young man's arms were bound quite firmly, though not painfully, to his sides. She was staring at him with the most peculiar expression, even for a bird.

As if she recognized something about him on a more personal level.

Which was impossible as Tom himself, though he knew a bit more about the other youth than both his familiar and Sirius, didn't know who the young man was. He hadn't ever seen him before at any of the places they had stopped at before this one. He certainly hadn't ever met him in his own world. Although he did look astonishingly like a certain young man that Tom had met on several different worlds. Sirius certainly recognized that fact himself as well.

"Tom, what is Tenshi doing?"

Tom snapped out of his thoughts at Sirius' question and shook his head, both in answer to the inquiry and to clear his head, "I don't know. She's never done this befo-"

Tom paused as Tenshi chirped at the sandy-haired youth and landed lightly on the left leg that was stretched out in front of him as he sat, bound, against the wall. She cocked her head to the right as if thinking very deeply about something and then grinned as only a phoenix could and trilled a joyful tune as she hopped from one leg to the other as if dancing. She twirled her wings and spun her tiny body around and around all while gazing adoringly into amber eyes.

She tugged now and then at the ropes binding the young man, nipping away at them until they were little else but frayed thread. The young man could have escaped at any moment, but seemed more than a little confused at the familiar's actions than anything else. It was like he couldn't see anything but the magical bird; the same could be said for the dark colored creature. It looked as if she had completely forgotten her traveling companions, never mind the fact that one was her bonded wizard.

Sirius just stared, "Professor, is this normal behavior for Tenshi?"

Tom shook his head again, "It could be, there's really nothing to compare it to..." He trailed off as he realized that Sirius didn't really know anything about Tenshi from before they had met.

Oh, Sirius knew that she wasn't a normal phoenix. She was too small for that, and not exactly the right coloring for it. However, he didn't know about what her life had been like before she had bonded to Tom as a familiar. He didn't know why she was so different, so her strange, unbird-like behavior was worrying the taller male considerably. Sirius had grown fond of the small bird and her child-like tendencies, never realizing that she had once been as human as he was. It had never really come up in a conversation, never really needed to be discussed.

Tenshi herself hadn't yet picked up on the worried looks that her companions were sending her, so preoccupied with the youth in front of her she was. She dipped her wings in a strange bow as she finished her song and dance and gazed up into amber eyes patiently, waiting for a response. Her dark green eyes were fixated on shocked amber; as if the owner of the other eyes didn't quite understand what it was she was trying to say to him. She cocked her head in confusion and trilled a question when no response was made to her discovery.

There was a moment of silence before the youth snapped his bonds and, finally, turned his eyes back to the other humans in the room. He no longer felt as if his rage was in control of his actions; the strange behavior of the phoenix (he knew it was a phoenix, though he had certainly never seen one quite like her, even in books) had taken care of that problem. His mind was working normally again and he knew that it was next to impossible for this man before him who looked so much like the Sirius Black that he remembered to be that same man from his memories.

For one thing, he had been certain that _that man_ was dead and his corpse burned and the ashes scattered in the ocean to the west of his current location.

"Just who _are_ you people?"

**A/N:** hope the wait wasn't too long for those of you who are actually reading this...it took my beta reader a while to get back to me...school starting and homework and work schedules shifting...it was really hectic for a while there...well, I hope this was worth it


	4. Chapter 3: Dinner

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author of this site, MaxFic (Harry Potter and the Otherside). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…_**reading…"**_

**Chapter 3: Dinner**

Tom glanced at the brooding young man over the fire as he stirred some kind of stew that he had thrown together. Oddly enough, the young man wasn't as averse to sharing his food with two strange people who seemed to just show up out of nowhere. He almost seemed- pleased to be sharing in their company.

Quite a turnaround from trying his hardest to slice one of them into tiny pieces only hours before.

He sighed as he thought of the recipient of such hatred. Sirius hadn't taken things as well as he would have hoped. Almost dying quite frequently had really done a number to the man's sense of humor it seemed. He shrugged to himself. He had been like that, once. Taking things a little more seriously (no pun intended). Life had seemed to be up against him at every turn and there was nothing he could do about it.

He had learned from his little feathered friend to find the humor in the most bizarre of occasions. She was forever lilting out one tune or another when she was amused, which was quite often. Life had been extra hard on her, more than most others he had met, yet she rarely allowed it to weigh her down or silence her joyful songs. Oh there were times where she mourned for one reason or another. However, she never allowed such mourning to dampen her high spirits.

After all, if you don't take the time to laugh at yourself, then someone else surely will, and that could hurt a lot more than anything else.

He knew what it was like to be the outcast. To be the one everyone made fun off and laughed at while he nursed some wound he had taken when falling particularly hard on the ground. But he also knew what it was like to find humor in your own defeat. To find joy in a sorrow.

To find something that could heal him from a wound so great that it threatened to destroy your very existence.

Sirius was slowly relearning this. For Tom was positive that he had known something similar to this philosophy at one point or another in his short life. But times had seemed to be continuously conspiring against him, taking all that he held dear to him and destroying it before his very eyes while leaving him with nothing.

It would take time, and care, but Tom was certain that Sirius would recover from the hand that fate had dealt him. It wasn't in the man's nature to concede a defeat. He'd only known the man for a year, but even he knew enough about him to know that he wasn't the kind to take anything lying down.

He wasn't so sure about the sandy-haired youth now ladling up portions of the stew for each of them, on the other hand. He didn't know the young man, had never come across him in his travels, but he seemed too familiar.

Scarily familiar.

As if he was a 'what if' question that Tom had asked himself once upon a time. As if he was the kind of person that many a couple had thought, "What if our child looked like this?" or "What if our baby had lived to adulthood?"

Now Tom himself had never had any children. He never would, as it turns out, no matter how much he himself would want one. But he had been a teacher, a mentor, an uncle.

He knew what it was like to have someone who has like a child, as close as he could get to having one of his own, and have them die at a young age. Or to watch a nephew and his girl friend giggle and laugh about how their child was going to look once they were married. He had played those 'what if' games himself. Imagining what a grand-niece or nephew looked like or what the child of one of his precious students would be like.

That was why this amber-eyed young man seemed so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

He was a 'what if' that Tom had once asked himself of one of his students.

...

John glanced up at the young looking man sitting down across the fire from him as he carefully ladled three bowls of stew from the pot he normally carried in his pack. There was just enough stew for each them with a little left over. The phoenix wasn't figured into the equation at all; he had seem the beautiful bird munching on some dried fruit and nuts that the youth had retrieved from somewhere on his person. Said bird was now contentedly drowsing to the side and in between where john himself had set up a place to sit and the youth she had been perched upon when he had first taken notice of her. She had made a comfy looking next out of said young man's cloak.

He passed the bowls of stew to the others silently before taking up his own portion and retreating to his own sitting place beside the fire. He noted absently that the bird shifted minutely until she was slightly closer to John then to her wizard, if indeed she was a familiar and not just a friend.

He said nothing as he ate his stew mechanically; his eyes seeming to stare off into space while in reality, they kept careful tabs on just what was going on around him. It was difficult to suppress his rage every time he caught sight of the older man.

_Sirius Black._

He clamped down on the surge of killing intent as quickly as it began to build up and pointedly looked away from the black-haired man.

He didn't want a repeat of what had happened earlier. When he wasn't looking at the man, when he was merely using all other senses besides his eyes, he could tell immediately that this man wasn't the same one that had so brutally murdered his father in front of his very eyes.

But emotions were very fickle things, and it was difficult to tell his heart to keep peace when he saw the countenance of that-!

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. This was getting him nowhere. A hand made its way to his face and he rubbed tiredly at his eyes before placing his empty bowl in the ground next to his perch. He had traveled long and hard over the last few weeks and he was tired. He glanced once more about at his surroundings, taking in the broken down and abandoned castle before turning back to his current company. In truth, though he couldn't stand the reminders that the elder one gave him, he was happy to have company once more. It had been a long time since he had spent enough time even eating with another. The strange bird that had danced for him and released him from the ropes binding him fluttered over to his side and gazed up at him with adoring eyes, accepting anything that he fed it, mostly some of his crusty bread.

They ate in silence and once they'd finished, he cleaned out the bowls in some sand that was nearby. The elder of his company cleaned out the small pot he'd made their stew in, though he used magic instead of sand and a cloth. The man who looked an awful lot like his greatest enemy handed the pot back to him silently before retaking his place by the fire. He was silent, had been silent since they had all agreed to spend the night together to gain information from one another.

John's lips didn't twist, though it was a very near thing. The only reason he had taken them at their word that they would not harm him in any way purposely was because of their third companion, the bird.

The phoenix.

...

He was silent as he watched the fire flicker in the night. He didn't look around at the crumbling castle that surrounded them, didn't look at his companion and his strange phoenix that seemed more human than she should and yet not human enough to be considered one. He most especially didn't look at the young man who sat across the fire from him. He knew that it wasn't something he had personally done to him, but his crazed attack reminded him too much of another young man, almost a boy really, who had attacked him because of something that he may or may not have done.

He usually tried not to let his thoughts get mired down like this, but every now and then he almost couldn't help himself. Couldn't help feeling sorry for himself. He was aware that feeling sorry for himself wouldn't change anything, knew that if it did somehow change something it would probably be a change for the worse. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care, not yet anyway.

Sirius pulled one of his daggers out from its sheath inside his left boot and went about sharpening it ever so slightly. He had been meaning to do it today anyway, but now it would double as a way to get his mind off of his circumstances. He hadn't expected it to take quite this long to get home, back to his godson and his friend. Maybe it was time to face the facts, maybe he wasn't ever going to get home, and he'd just wander from world to world, as long as Tom would want to, and never really get home. He quickly put such thoughts from his mind and concentrated on his dagger. The other two found similar tasks to occupy their minds and hands, though they were very different from one another. The young man that they'd met set about putting away the dishes he'd shared with them before cleaning the weapons he'd used earlier. Tom entertained himself by recording something in one of his many journals. Sirius noticed out of the corner of his eye how the professor sketched parts of the castle courtyard that they had found shelter in. Sirius knew that they would have a little question and answer session as soon as everyone was done fiddling with whatever they had in their hands.

The phoenix continued to stare at the young man whose name they still didn't know.


	5. Chapter 4: Answers That Aren't

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author of this site, MaxFic (Harry Potter and the Otherside). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…_**reading…"**_

**Chapter 4: Answers That Aren't**

John sighed as everyone continued working on whatever was in their hands. If anything was going to be said, then he might as well start it. "You didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

The elder looking man looked at him for a moment before transferring his gaze to his human companion, who continued writing in his leather bound journal for several more moments before he, too, looked up. He didn't put his book away, didn't even close it, but he did glance at the elder man before looking at John. He smiled.

"My name is Thomas Dumbledore and this is my friend, Sirius Black and my very good friend, Eileen." With the last introduction, he motioned towards the bird who dipped as if she were giving John a curtsey before flittering up into the air to alight on Thomas' shoulder.

John closed his eyes very tightly for a moment and spoke without opening them, "There is no way, magically or otherwise, that _he_ can be Sirius Black."

"And what makes you so certain of that?" Thomas' voice was as irritating as the smile he'd used before speaking.

"Because," John ground out, still not opening his eyes, "I made sure of that."

"Oh?" Thomas asked, "And how can you be so sure? Did you destroy all of the Time Turners and murder Sirius Black whilst using very complex ritual magics that would keep any and all Sirius Blacks from coming to the same time that you reside in?" Thomas's voice was light, almost playful for such a serious topic.

Black rolled his eyes. John noticed that he didn't say anything despite the look of annoyance on his face. His own eyes narrowed, this wasn't a matter that he took lightly.

"I don't appreciate your sense of humor in this matter," he growled.

Thomas didn't drop his affable expression, "I wasn't being humorous. Those were serious questions. Unless you have thought of every possible outcome, no matter how extraordinary, then you haven't made it absolutely sure that something will or will not happen."

John glowered at him for a few moments before going through a simple set of breathing exercises his father had taught him. Once he was calm enough, he reopened his eyes and turned to 'Black.'

"Are you the Sirius Black from this timeline?"

Thomas smiled a satisfied little grin. The kind of smile that he always wore when a student had made a connection that he had been trying to show them, even if he hadn't come right out and told them. It was important for people to make some connections on their own, or they would have problems accepting them. The harder it was for them to accept them, the harder it was for them to move on to the next lesson, whatever that lesson may be. Now more than ever he was certain that he knew the identity of at least one of this boy's parents.

"No," Black finally looked up and met John's eyes, "I'm not."

"Then who are you? Where are you from and why are you here?" If John tried not to think of him as the 'real' Sirius Black, things would be better for all involved. The more information he had that differed from the man that he had known would go a long way in helping him make that distinction.

Black blinked, "That's it? No, 'You imposter! I don't believe you!' Nothing?"

John looked at him, deadpan, "Why waste time and energy. I made sure that Sirius Black wouldn't be able to be alive right now and now that I think about it, you look older than he would be even if he was still alive. It would be more plausible for you to be from a different timeline than to be from my own and have taken an aging potion to make the difference in years." He shrugged, "That, and I don't think that the phoenix would take kindly to the kind of man that Sirius Black was in this timeline, even if the phoenix had Fallen."

"You're quite open-minded for someone who tried to kill me as soon as he saw me."

John continued to stare at him and Black got the feeling that there was more to his reasoning that the young man wasn't sharing. He didn't really have too big a problem with that. He wouldn't share everything about all and sunder with someone he'd just met either. Leena seemed fine with the young man and now that the kid wasn't swinging weapons with the intent to kill and/or maim, he would live with whatever secrets he had squirreled away. It wasn't like he would be sharing everything he knew either, and at this point, he was finally starting to see that if you wanted fairness and equality of any kind in the world, it had to start with you.

"We're here for several reasons, or at least, the Professor is, I'm here because I'm trying to find my way home. I got…lost, I guess you could say. The Professor found me and is helping me find a way home. His reasons for doing so, you'd have to ask him."

"What do you mean 'lost?'"

"There was a battle and during that battle, I was pushed through a doorway that ended up with me somewhere than I had begun. It could have been a lot worse, I know that now, but at the time, all I could think about was how I needed to get home to my family, to my godson…"

...

Sirius had one last fleeting glance of his last living best friend holding his godson, trying to stop Harry from following him, before he was swept away in the currents of the Veil of Death. He expected that he'd be dead soon, that his soul would be ripped from his body in either a very peaceful manner or a very violent one. Either way, he was never going to see his precious little godson again, nor be able to tease Remus about the little crush his cousin had. He would miss everything that he had been going to catch up on. Twelve years of prison and almost three years on the run, he never had enough time for anything.

The only thing that would be worse than this would be if he saw any of his friends and chosen family sooner rather than later. He could handle not seeing them again for long time as long as it was something like 'a lifetime's worth of time.' On the bright side, he would soon be seeing his best mate soon enough. He was almost dreading seeing James, certain that he was going to get cracks about getting taken out by a curtain of all things. Lily would probably be on his case for something or another, he wasn't really sure about what. Either way, he was going to be leaving friends and family behind and meeting up with others.

His surprise when he fell back out of the Veil was more than it had been when he'd discovered they'd all been betrayed by the least suspect. He lay on the ground for all of one minute, not entirely sure of what had just happened. Sadly, it was long enough for some kind of alarm to go off in the building. He came to his feet, looking around for any of the others that he had left behind when someone else entered the room. He looked up, noticing that no one else was in the room besides the two of them.

He was further shocked to be meeting the eyes of someone he hadn't seen in more than twelve years. He would have forgotten who it was if it weren't for his similar countenance to his sister. Gideon Prewett looked no worse for the ware. He looked older and healthier than the last time Sirius had seen him. Considering Sirius had been one of the aurors who had found the Prewett brothers after several Death Eaters had held them captive, Sirius wondered if he was dead and if so, why did the afterlife look and feel the same as the real world.

Then he wondered if he was dreaming, if the whole battle with the Death Eaters and the knowledge that his godson was facing yet another near death experience was just a bad trip from whatever poison Kreacher had tried (and probably failed) to use on him again. The demented elf had been trying things that wouldn't kill Sirius per say, but would make him possible injure himself to cause his own demise. He had to hand it to the elf, if there had been Houses for house elves, that thing would have been in Slytherin hands down. It wasn't until the dead man spoke, taking out his wand and aiming it at the confused man, that Sirius realized he wasn't dreaming and he wasn't dead.

"I don't know who you are, but you're going to be in a lot of trouble if you try to make a break for it. This room has been locked down, so it would be in your best interests if you drop your wand, slide it over to me with your foot and make no other sudden movements."


	6. Chapter 5: Changing of the Scenes

**Crack in the Line**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to that series, they are the property of J. K. Rowling. The idea for this work is also not my own, it belongs to a book called A Crack in the Line by Michael Lawrence as well as being influenced by a fellow author of this site, MaxFic (Harry Potter and the Otherside). I do own my OCs and their lives, that is all.

"…speech…"

'…_thoughts…'_

"…_**reading…"**_

**Chapter 5: Changing of the Scenes**

Sirius wasn't sure just what was going to happen to him once he was taken into custody. He was still shocked that he wasn't dead, unless the afterlife was really just another version of what life was like. If that was the case, hopefully they wouldn't throw him into prison for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. On the other, he also hoped that any of the stupid stuff he did in his youth (and he still didn't consider trying to kill Snivelous as something stupid) would come back to bite him unpleasantly. He hadn't really been a big fan of karma or anything like that. Considering most of the crap his family had gotten up to and, apparently, gotten away with (with the exception of his cousin Bellatrix) he hadn't really believed in the boomerang effect.

Remus had, but Remus was also the last to join in on some of the more amusing pranks they had gotten up to as students, so he was probably biased anyway.

Sirius noticed that in his inattention he had already been brought to what looked like an interrogation room somewhere within the Ministry of Magic. It looked similar enough to ones that he had used as an auror before prison, but most interrogation rooms looked the same, muggle ones included from what he knew. He didn't have his wand, but at least he wasn't immediately thrown back into Azkaban or taken to Dementors either, so he was hoping that this was going to turn out far better than the last time he was taken. The fact that he was taken by a dead man really made him wonder if the afterlife was really just like regular life.

He sat quietly in his chair at the little wooden table in the small room with the single light bulb. (He didn't wonder at why there was a light bulb in a magical building, they were able to use them in wizarding cameras after all, why wouldn't they work in a small room that wasn't supposed to have wand magic cast in it anyways?) He looked up as someone he hadn't seen in over a decade entered the room.

"James?"

...

"We've got another one, sir."

"Are you kidding me? We really need to figure out just how that blasted thing works before we find ourselves overrun with random strangers popping up."

"He's in the Room, sir, awaiting your arrival."

"You didn't tell him who would be talking to him, did you? That was really irritating the last time you did and they got all hysterical on me before I even entered."

"No, sir."

"Was he even paying attention when you were talking to him?"

"No, sir. He seemed more than a little out of it."

A drawn out sigh, "I just hope it's not one of those mass murderers that we were getting for quite a while there. That was more than a little taxing to take care of."

"Don't I know it, sir. That was incredibly embarrassing to watch."

James Potter glared at his assistant, who was smiling cheekily at him, "I'm sure it was embarrassing to _watch_."

His only answer was a barely restrained chuckle.

...

Sirius wasn't sure that he wasn't hallucinating or if he had somehow dreamt the whole thing happening. He'd decided earlier that he wasn't dreaming and that he wasn't dead, but since that initial decision, he'd found himself reconsidering that, frequently. He'd had some pretty graphic dreams since not only being thrown into Azkaban, but also leaving it. He pinched himself, hard. When that didn't work he made a fist and punched himself harder into his thigh. Once he was fairly certain that he was, in fact, awake, he turned his eyes back to his best friend, his _dead_ best friend.

"Am I in the afterlife?"

"No," the man before him smiled tightly for a moment before sitting across from the discombobulated man and folding his hands on the wooden table. "I'm afraid you're somewhere much worse, but also much better."

"How can something be worse and better at the same time?"

"Do you really need to ask such a question? Because if you do, then you're nothing like several people who I've had the _fortune_ of meeting like this in the last several years."

Sirius shook his head for a moment and opened his mouth to respond before closing it again and licking his lips. James noticed and gestured to someone who was no doubt watching them through…something and a glass of water appeared before the ragged looking man. Sirius nodded his thanks and slowly sipped at the water provided.

"So, where am I?"

"You're in a secure location within the Department of Mysteries."

Sirius nodded, "If I'm not in the afterlife, then where am I?"

James quirked and eyebrow before continuing, "I'm afraid that I can't really answer that question until you tell me more about how you got into one of the most secured locations within the Department."

Sirius drank the last of his water, unsure of how to continue with the conversation. He didn't think to question the water that was given to him until he placed the empty glass back on the table. He could feel the veritaserum start to take effect, though it felt different from the truth potion that he'd had used on him before. His eyes narrowed at the man sitting across the table from him.

"What did you do to me?"

James steepled his hands in front of his face as the glass disappeared, "Safety precaution, I'm sure you understand that we have to be careful in these times."

Sirius growled low in his throat, but didn't say anything. He was surprisingly lucid for having vertiaserum in his system.

"Now, we'll begin. You have the right to remain silent, but know that you will be unable to tell a falsehood whilst under the Veritas Concentration. This conversation is being recorded audibly, visually and through the written word. You have rights as laid down by the Geneva Accords, Magical Version. You were not pressured to drink of the Veritas Concentration, were you?"

Sirius felt a small compulsion to speak, though it could be likened to when he'd felt the need to answer a question that he knew the answer to as a youth. He didn't fight it as there didn't seem to be much point, "No, I drank it of my own free will, though I probably wouldn't have had I known what it was."

The man that looked like his best friend, but wasn't nodded, "I understand. What is your name?"

"Sirius Black."

He was rewarded by a slight widening of his interrogator's eyes before those eyes narrowed. Sirius bared his teeth in a feral grin as the questions continued. If he was going to be compelled to answer questions then he was going to enjoy this as much as possible. He tried to keep his guard up at the same time, however, as he still had family to protect. Sirius Black may not be the sanest wizard out there. He certainly hadn't been winning any awards in that field before Azkaban, and he would never win any after.

"How did you get into the Department of Mysteries?"

...

Jonathon listened as the man in front of him described his interrogation so calmly. His eyes glanced back at the man's companion. Tom was feeding his bird some nuts that he had pulled out from somewhere. He returned his eyes and his attention back to the man that was and wasn't Sirius Black.

"I don't understand what this has to do with you being here," he interjected when not-Sirius paused for a breath. "I can understand that you got to your first 'alternate world,' but that doesn't explain how you got here."

Sirius frowned, "I was getting to that part."

Jonathon shrugged, "It sounded more like you were trying to give me your autobiography by starting somewhere in the middle. I didn't ask for every little thing that has happened to you, I just want to know how you got here and how to get rid of you." His eyes narrowed as he finished speaking.

Jonathon was generally a friendly person, guarded and cautious and ready in case he needed to fight his way out of anything, but still a friendly and polite person. His mother and his father had been certain that, despite the type of world they lived in, their son would be able to go places if he ever had the chance. He would have any skill that his parents were able to give him. Jonathon was a good student, when he wanted to be and there was precious little he hadn't been willing to learn from his parents and his aunt. That didn't mean that he needed to sit quietly and listen to someone who he didn't really care about talk about their life story.

Sirius threw a glare at Tom when he snorted before turning back to the young man in front of him, "Fine, have it your way. The long and short of it is that I fell through what we thought was the 'Veil of Death.'"

"What is it really?"

Tom spoke up, "We're not entirely sure what it is, but I've taken to calling it the 'Veil of Chance.' You have just as much chance ending up dead using it as you do of getting shot out into another world. The world might not even be the same as yours." He grinned dopily for a moment, "This one time, when someone came through, they had blue hair. And no, they weren't a metamorphagus nor did they have magic, their hair was naturally blue. It was awesome talking with him…"

Tom trailed off but returned his attention to his bird when she pecked at him impatiently, wanting more nuts. He happily complied for a few more nuts before shushing his pouting bird. Sirius still wasn't sure just how a bird was able to pout, but she managed to pull it off.

"That still doesn't explain how you got here."

"I met Tom whilst I was in that first world. He's some kind of researcher, about what, exactly, I'm still not certain. He seems to be studying everything and anything that catches his fancy. He spent something close to a year working on some kind of theory."

Jonathon frowned as he listened as Tom took over the conversation at this point. He listened as the young-looking man, and he was certain that the teen that looked younger than Jonathon himself was probably older than not-Sirius, expounded on his theory. He talked about choices and how he believed that each major choice could split reality into two or more outcomes where all of them happened. In order to keep from collapsing the natural order of things, the very fabric of the universe (though Tom called it the 'varied-verse') was threaded in such a way that the worlds were able to exist side by side without either side knowing or even suspecting that another just like theirs was there. Jonathon listened as he spoke of a boundary, a line that divided each reality from the ones next to it. Apparently, Tom had been studying such a thing for something like 30 years, possibly longer.

"I studied this phenomena was best I could in my own world, but I reached a glass ceiling a few years before Sirius showed up. I decided that this was my best chance to continue my research and so chose to join him on his quest to find his home, his reality."

Jonathon raised an eyebrow at that as he added more firewood to the fire. The day was fading away and it would be cold that night as had been the night before. "And just how are you able to travel?"

Tom beamed at him, which unsettled Jonathon for a moment, though he couldn't really explain just why that smile made him uneasy. "I'm glad you asked!" he motioned to his familiar who hopped up onto his lap and fluttered her wings at Jonathon for a moment before turning her head to look at him coyly. "It's all possible because of this lovely you lady! After I found Sirius-"

"Through sources that he still won't disclose." Not-Sirius grumbled.

"-Leena and I worked out the differences in resonance between this Sirius Black and the one from our own reality. Using that resonance-"

"The weird phoenix can dimension travel," Sirius interrupted, cutting Tom's monologue short, "There's a lot of information that the Professor can spout out and if you don't' stop him early enough, he will talk you to death and then bring you back as an inferi in order to keep talking."

By now the sun had finished going down and the only light came from the stars overhead and the fire. Jonathon sat back and allowed what little magic that was intrinsic to all living things, especially his kind to think about his situation. He was curious about these strangers; he would admit to himself that much. He was lonely and he was tired of being alone. He hadn't known why he felt pulled to return to the burned out castle, but he had followed that feeling. He had thought that maybe, it was his own life letting him know that it was going to end soon. He had heard others describe that feeling before they had just lain down and died like that. That wasn't the case anymore.

As he watched the two strange men pull out their own sleeping gear, bunking down close enough to the fire to be all right, he offered to take first watch. They nodded to him and settled down, going to sleep quickly and efficiently. It seemed as if they were also aware of how important it was to get sleep when and where you could. He glanced at the silver bird that nuzzled her human before hopping over to him and perching to rest on his shoulder. He made no move to either welcome her or shoo her off, but allowed her weight to settle on his shoulder. Maybe this was life's way of letting him know there was still something worth living for?


End file.
